


To Build a Home

by siddals



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:41:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siddals/pseuds/siddals
Summary: Will shows Margaret where he lives.





	To Build a Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adreadfulidea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreadfulidea/gifts).



> For the prompt "an empty/abandoned place" on tumblr.

Will is reluctant to show her where he sleeps, but Margaret insists.

He isn’t the only man working on the docks to bed down here. The wages have always been meager and there’s hardly a man who doesn’t supplement his income some way or other, when he can find occupation. Will serves tables, some nights, over at the Shakespear’s Head, when one or other of their usual men can’t come in. On good nights, when men are free with their money and appreciative of his conversation, he can afford to take a room upstairs.

The warehouse hasn’t been used in some years, and the door is padlocked, but they come through the wall where the men slip in. His stomach sinks as Margaret surveys her surroundings, her mouth tight. If she walks away, he can hardly blame her. She has her girls to think of. Despite his lack of a family (or perhaps because of it), Will has always been keenly aware of its importance.

“I mean to do better soon,” he says, his words sounding weak to him.

Margaret clucks her tongue.

“Must pay you pennies, down at the docks,” she says, “It’s a damned shame, Will.”

Her tone doesn’t carry disapproval, he thinks. At least not of him.

“It’s how it is,” he says softly, “I work nights, sometimes. But the Head doesn’t always have need of me.”

It was at the Head that he met Margaret, perched atop some drunken lord’s lap with her head tipped back in laughter. She had been the one to come to him, once the tavern had emptied out. He has never been much one for approaching women, unless he is sure of the outcome. Most of the ones at the Head have business to do, and he has neither the coin nor the desire to pay a woman to bed down with him. Besides, there are many Englishwomen who would take offense to having him too close, even among those who are none too choosy with their fairer-skinned company. At first, he had thought she talked more than any other woman he had met, but he hadn’t minded. There was something in him that drew him to her, her wild laugh and crooked smile.

“Why don’t you come and stay with me in Covent Garden for a bit?” she says, “It’s a small house and near full already but there are plenty of men I know who could offer you work. You can do better than this. Simply a matter of knowing the right men.”

He shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t worry over me,” he says, “You’ve got the girls to think of.”

“It’s no act of charity, Will,” she says, “Anyone can see you’ve got a quick mind. Plenty could use a man like you.”

He nods slowly, considering.

“Should come anyway,” she says, “Even if you don’t stay. The girls would like you. Charlotte’s a wild girl, needs a firm hand sometimes but she’s got a spirit like I never seen in anyone. Lucy’s a sweet thing, except when she gets an idea in her head.”

“You’d like me to meet them?” he asks, surprised.

Now it is her turn to look uneasy.

“If you want it,” she says, “Don’t want to push anything on you, Will.”

“I’d like that,” he says, “I’ll come.”

Her face breaks into a smile, splitting her face.

“Well then, Will,” she says, “Shall we leave this place behind?”


End file.
